“I'm going to be a talkative doorman with a drinking problem.”

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What are your dreams?

When I grow up, I'm going to do vending-machine maintenance.

I'm going to get shot by a cop and sue the city.

I'm going to be a talkative doorman with a drinking problem.

That's right. You shoot for the stars.

No, no, no, no, no. These are not the dreams of winners.

These aren't winners. They're 0-17.

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